a^i*  J*.* 


t^:--- 


THE 


DESCENT  FROM  THE  CROSS. 


3.    Jpocm. 


HARTFORD. 

PRLNTEtt  BY  CASE,  TIFFANY  &  BURNHAM,  PEARL  STREET. 

1841. 


UCSB   LIBRARY 


LiUi  ^f  ii;};  i:l 


THE 


DESCENT  FROM  THE  CROSS. 


^  Ipocm, 


DELIVEBEO  IN  HARTFOBD,  OCTOBER  28,  1841. 


BY  LUCIAN  BURLEIGH. 


HARTFORD. 

PRINTED  BY  CASE,  TIFFANY  &  BURNHAM,  PEARL  STREET. 
1841. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/descentfromcrossOOburliala 


THE  DESCENT  FROM  THE  CROSS. 


Sunset  o'er  wide  Judea.     Broad  and  red, 

Rolled  down  the  affrighted  orb,  and  scarce  one  ray 

Gave  back  to  gild  rock,  spire,  or  temple  dome. 

One  lurid  glare  was  burning  on  the  brow 

Of  the  astonished  heaven — the  mantling  blush 

Of  conscious  Nature,  at  the  deep  and  black 

Ingratitude  of  man.     The  fire-eyed  sun 

Had  never  seen,  along  his  radiant  way, 

So  foul  a  deed  and  wild,  as  darkened  then 

The  golden  lustre  of  his  fading  beams  ; 

Since  o'er  the  kindling  of  creation's  dawn, 

The  hand  of  God  marked  out  his  burning  path 

Through  the  void  firmament ;  not  even  when 

His  fiery  beams  drank  up  the  martyr-blood 

Of  murdered  Abel,  as  he  bowed  in  death; 

And  gave  his  soul  an  offering  to  God, 

At  his  own  altar. 

The  departing  day 
Had  veiled  its  glances,  that  they  might  not  gild 
The  victor  car  of  man's  Ar«h-enemy, 
In  his  most  fatal  triumph, — ^conquest  won, 
That,  suicidal,  smote  his  own  proud  crest, — 
'T  was  done !  For  earth,  the  anointed  Lamb  was  slain ; 
Slain  for  our  sins,  and  the  revolted  world, 


That  we  through  Him,  might  have  eternal  life. — 
The  maddened  multitude,  swayed  to  and  fro, 
Like  the  wild  ocean,  when  its  storm  lashed  waves 
Burst  terrible  o'er  their  flinty  bounds,  had  rolled 
Forth,  from  the  gates  of  walled  Jerusalem  ; 
And,  like  the  returning  ebb  of  that  wild  sea, 
Rolled  back  again,  while  on  Golgotha's  brow, 
Earth's  crowning  sacrifice,  God!s  well-beloved, 
Hung  stricken  with  intensest  agony. 
Than  which,  save  His,  nor  fiercer  pang  could  bear 
Nor  deeper  sting,  one  soul,  or  free  or  swathed 
In  the  weak  foldings  of  mortality. — 
The  impious  scoff,  and  the  derisive  jeer, 
Of  priest,  and  populace  uprose  to  heaven. 
Blackening  the  cloud  of  vengeance,  that  hung  dark 
O'er  Salem's  doomed  and  long-devoted  walls. 
Fierce  Hell  had  heard  the  shout  of"  Crucify" 
Rung  by  the  infuriate  multitude ;   and  seen 
The  horrid  triumph  of  incarnate  fiends  ; 
And  Hell  was  stirred  through  its  profoundest  deep. 
Her  swarming  legions,  pouring  from  their  caves. 
As  pours  the  simoon  on  its  deadly  march. 
Winnowed  the  desert  waste,  and  mountain  cliff", 
With  the  swift  beat  of  foul  and  obscene  wings  ; 
And  hovering  demons  on  the  burning  air, 
Darkened  the  sun  at  noonday.     Rayless,  rolled 
The  unblazing  orb  along  the  hueless  heaven, 
Shedding  thick  gloom,, and  deeper  night,  upon 
The  all  prevailing  darkness.     Rocks  were  rent ; 
Earth's  granite  heart  was  broken,  at  the  deed 
Of  unrelenting  man ;  and  the  dark  grave, 
Shook  from  the  slumber  of  rev^olving  years, 
Yawned  heavily.     The  sheeted  dead  leap'd  forth 
From  the  dark  sepulchre,  a  spectral  host, 
And  dimly  strode  along  the  dismal  gloom. 


The  wild  rout  of  the  maddened  populace, 

With  sceptered  king,  and  chief,  and  jeering  priest, 

Had  passed  away,  when  from  his  home,  abashed, 

The  affrighted  Sun  looked  out.     The  Crucified 

Mocked  in  His  wasting  torture,  rolled  His  eye 

Upward  in  agony  and  cried  aloud, 

"  Eloi !  Eloi !  lama  sabacthani  ?" 

And  the  great  Spirit  of  incarnate  God 

Clove  the  sick  air  and  darted  into  heaven. — 

Night  came,  and  turned  the  heartless  deicide 

To  lift,  in  impious  mockery,  the  hand, 

Red  with  the  blood  of  slaughtered  Innocence, 

And  call  to  heaven  for  blessings  on  the  deed. 

Beneath  the  shade  of  twilight's  dusky  wing, 

A  chosen  band  approached  the  accursed  cross 

With  solemn  tread  along  their  voiceless  way, — 

Voiceless,  save  ever  and  anon  a  moan, 

From  the  deep-heaving-breast  of  one,  that  broke, — 

The  Virgin  mother  mourning  for  her  Son. 

Joseph  the  just,  and  John  the  well  beloved, 

On  whose  strong  arm  the  weeping  mother  leaned. 

And  Nicodemus  in  whose  heart  the  fear 

Of  popular  scorn,  and  the  unyielding  hate 

Of  a  proud  world,  his  love  could  quench  not,  came ; 

And  with  them,  Mary,  from  whose  tortured  breast 

Startled  at  Christ's  omnific  word,  in  dread, 

The  seven  foul  spirits  to  their  burning  home 

Fled  howling  fierce,  and  left  her  bosom  pure  ; 

And  the  tried  souls  that  terror  could  not  awe. 

Of  death  and  fell  derision.     On  they  moved 

To  bear  the  Saviour's  cold,  insulted  form 

To  its  chill  mansion  in  the  dreary  tomb, 

Corruption's  rock-hewn  temple,  where  the  worm 

Is  mightier  than  the  conquerer,  whose  tread 

Hath  crushed  the  nations  down,  and  shook  the  world. 


6 

Heaven's  arch  was  dark  and  shadow  veiled,  save  where 

The  effulgent  glory  of  the  Father  shone 

On  the  slain  Son.     The  dun  clouds  to  and  fro 

Swayed  heavily  on  the  tired  and  sluggish  wing 

Of  the  inconstant  wind  ;  and  starless  night 

'Gan  peer  above  the  foldings  of  the  mist. 

Silent  they  gathered  round  the  accursed  tree, 

A  stricken  band  I     The  memories  of  the  past, 

Like  armed  spectres  by  the  potent  wand 

Of  Chaldean  sorcerer  up-called  to  life, 

Came  crowding  on  each  soul  as  sorrowing 

The  mourners  bended  to  their  holy  task. 

There  stood  the  mother,  and  her  heart  was  wrung 

With  all  a  mother's  agony,  for  a  Son 

Murdered  by  ruthless  hands,  a  Saviour  slain 

By  an  ungrateful  world  ;  her  upturned  eye 

Mournfully  glancing  on  the  pulseless  corse, 

And  the  soul's  sadness  written  in  her  gaze. 

What  burning  thoughts  were  hers,  as  they  unloosed 

The  cruel  iron  from  His  mangled  palms, 

And  His  pierced  heart  dropped  gouts  of  clotted  blood. 

The  gloomy  memories  of  the  buried  past 

Hung  o'er  the  darkened  present,  and  the  thought 

Of  gladder  moments  like  the  sudden  light 

Poured  on  the  midnight  thunder  cloud,  revealed 

The  unbroken  gloom  that  compassed  it  around  : 

Perchance  the  calmness,  when  the  storm  was  o'er. 

Left  by  the  last  kind  touch  of  Death  upon 

His  pure  cold  brow  and  His  unmoving  lip, 

Sent  back  her  agonizing  thought,  and  told 

How  her  young  heart  beat  high  with  holy  joy, 

When  o'er  His  cradle  hung  the  morning  star. 

And  the  grey  Magi  came  and  bent  to  see 

The  heavenly  quiet  of  His  infant  sleep. 

As  angel  pinions  fanned  the  unchanging  brow 

Of  the  young  sleeper.     Then,  perchance,  there  came 


The  thought  of  trials  past,  when  Bethlehem's  star 
Grew  dim  in  heaven,  and  by  the  Spirit  led, 
For  Egypt's  plains,  she  took  her  sunless  way. 
With  the  young  Child ;  still  in  her  weary  flight 
Guarding  His  slumbers  with  a  sleepless  eye, 
What  time  the  wrath  ofsceptered  Herod  burned 
In  kingly  fury  o'er  the  bleeding  land. 
Till  one  loud  wail  went  surging  up  to  heaven 
From  slaughtered  infants  mangled  on  the  sword  ; 
The  voice  of  anguish  came  from  Rama's  vales — 
The  wail  of  Rachel  for  her  children  torn 
And  dashed  in  vengeance  on  the  gory  wall ; 
While  mourning  mothers  poured  their  loud  lament 
From  vallies  green,  and  the  uplifted  hills, 
And  their  deep  sorrows  melted  into  hers. — 
Low  at  her  feet  and  by  the  Saviour's  Cross 
Knelt  Mary  of  Cleophas,  she  who  sought 
His  steps  in  Gallilee  when  the  burning  scorn 
0(  mocking  multitiides  was  the  price  of  love. 
And  there,  undaunted  by  the  scoffers'  jeers. 
Ministered  to  Him  faithful  to  the  last; 
And  by  her  side  knelt  Mary  Magdalene, 
Earnestly  gazing  on  the  pallid  face 
Of  the  descending  corse  ;  her  flowing  locks 
Wet  with  the  dew  of  even,  and  her  heart 
Heavy  with  sorrows.     Could  she  all  forget 
The  power,  that,  templed  in  that  lifeless  form 
Had  poured  upon  her  troubled  soul  the  oil 
Of  consolation,  making  pure,  and  calm. 
The  rough  surge,  torn  by  passions  curbless  storm  ? 
Could  she  forget  the  mournful  thoughts  that  stirred 
His  quivering  lip  upon  that  fatal  morn. 
When  the  Cyrenean  bore  His  cruel  cross, 
And,  led  by  impious  hands  the  Saviour  trod 
The  solemn  death-march  of  the  Son  of  God, 
Warning,  prophetic,  on  His  weary  way 


'8 

The  mourning  daughters  af  Jerusalem 

Of  coming  doom?     Ah!  no;  for  woman's  heart. 

In  the  deep  chambers  of  its  secret  thought 

Will  cherish  memories  of  the  eventful  past, 

And  brood  with  holy  fervency  o'er  words 

That  fall  unheeded  and  unregistered 

In  man's  insentient  bosom  ;  woman's  soul 

Will  nerve  her  to  new  scenes  untried  before, 

When  the  dun  shades  of  woe  and  grim  despair. 

Are  dark'ning  to  their  midnight,  and  the  strength 

Of  man's  proud  heart  is  trembling  in  its  hold. 

Fearless  of  hate,  and  daring  to  be  just 

Came  Arimathean  Joseph,  old  yet  strong. 

His  grey  beard  floating  on  his  muffled  breast, 

And  his  keen  eye,  with  manhood's  fiery  flash, 

Mocking  the  quenching  breath  of  time.     Around 

His  being's  pathway  Honor  poured  her  gifts, 

And  golden  Wealth  :  but  he  had  spurned  of  Wealth 

And  Honor  all  the  dazzling  boon  they  gave  ; 

And  for  his  heritage  avowed  the  hated  name 

Of  the  Rejected,  Spurned,  and  Crucified  ; 

And  when  the  agony  was  past  to  Him 

Who  found  in  life  not  where  to  lay  His  head, 

Gave  his  own  sepulchre,  for  His  triduan  couch, 

Him,  in  his  mournful  task,  with  burdened  heart. 

Joined  Nicodemus,  of  Judea's  sons 

High  honored,  and  exalted,  even  among 

The  grey-haired  counsellors  and  lords  of  state. 

Wise  men  and  reverend  rulers.     He  by  night 

In  the  deep  silence  of  unnoted  hours 

Had  sought  alone  the  Holy  One  of  God, 

Who,  crownless  though  a  King,  with  word  and  work 

Woke  the  wide  world  to  wonder.     There  he  bowed 

To  learn  the  wisdom  of  the  pure  in  heart. 

And  hear  what  mortal  lips  before,  though  fired 


9 

With  godlike  eloquence,  had  never  spoke, — 
Words  of  salvation,  and  eternal  life, 
Wrote  by  the  finger  of  the  Omnipotent 
In  the  great  volume  of  His  infinite  thought, 
And  uttered  forth  by  His  anointed  Son. 
Long  in  sweet  converse  with  that  holy  Man, 
(For  God  was  Man  and  Man  w'as  God  in  Him,) 
Sat  Nicodemus  ;  to  the  hallowed  words 
Bending  attentive,  no  unwilling  ear  ; 
Firing  his  spirit  with  the  eternal  truth, 
That,  burning  like  sweet  incense  in  the  soul 
Of  the  pure  Jesus,  poured  its  light  abroad 
To  make  the  nations  glad  ;  and  on  his  heart 
The  word,  like  seed  upon  the  fruitful  earth, 
Fell,  not  unblessed  ;  but,  springing  into  life, 
Bore  the  increase  of  righteousness  and  joy. 
His  was  the  voice  for  Justice  and  the  Right 
Among  the  gathered  rulers ;  mindless  he 
Of  the  rude  taunt,  and  curling  lip  of  scorn, 
When  back,  confounded,  the  marauders  came, 
Commissioned  by  that  proud  and  impious  band 
Of  mocking  magistrates,  to  seek  and  bind 
The  Gallilean  Prophet. — There  repulsed 
His  spirit  cherished  in  its  secret  cell. 
The  words  of  Him,  the  spotless  Nazarine, 
Who  spoke  as  man  had  never ;  and  his  thoughts, 
Like  pilgrims  lingering  at  the  hallowed  shrine 
Where  some  fond  presence  broodeth,  hung  above 
The  receding  past  with  a  deep  fervency, 
While  with  the  mourners  at  the  blood-stained  cross 
He  wrought,  preparing  for  its  cold  retreat 
The  desolate  dwelling  of  that  perfect  Soul 
That  warmed  in  life  the  great  Messiah's  clay. 
Strong  hands  above  let  down  the  nerveless  form 
Of  the  slain  Jesus,  on  the  sinewy  arms 
Of  John  the  well-beloved.     Full  firm  he  stood 
2 


V 

\ 


10 

Bending  beneath  the  precious  load.     Nor  less 

Rested  the  weight  of  sorrow  on  his  soul, 

As  memory  flew  along  the  stormy  track 

Of  his  existence,  and  its  thousand  scenes, 

When  of  the  twelve,  he  walked,  the  loved  and  tried 

Disciple  of  his  Master,  o'er  the  world, 

A  weary  wanderer  with  a  chosen  band 

Of  martyr-spirits.     lie  with  them  had  seen 

The  living  Spirit  of  God  "made  manifest" 

Clothed  in  the  mantling  robe  of  mortal  clay. 

When  the  cold  arms,  now  stretched  by  impious  hands 

Across  the  infernal  tree,  were  lifted  up 

In  blessing  and  in  prayer  ;  or  to  the  heart, 

Where  ran  for  blood  the  God-defying  spear, 

Folded  the  smiling  babes,  of  mother's  brought 

For  His  meek  benison.     He  with  them  had  seen 

The  dead,  upstarting  in  their  winding  sheets, 

Tread  the  firm  earth  ;  the  bruised,  the  sick,  the  lame, 

Leaping  exultingly  and  praising  God, — 

The  foul  and  unclean  spirits,  tear  in  wrath 

Their  tortured  victims,  when  by  Christ  rebuked 

They  howled  their  terror,  and  forsook  their  prey. 

He  saw,  beside  the  walls  of  Jericho, 

The  darkened  eye-balls  Timeus'  son 

Kindle  like  lightning,  at  the  gentle  voice 

Of  a  benignant  Saviour,     Pie  had  heard 

Words,  burning  with  prophetic  eloquence, ' 

Of  cheer,  of  warning,  and  of  stern  rebuke, 

Leap  from  the  lips,  that,  cold  and  pallid  now 

Were  sealed  in  death  ; — and  oft  the  kindly  glance, 

Now  quenched  by  the  King  of  Terrors,  beamed 

In  holy  love  and  meekness  on  him,  when 

He,  in  his  fondness,  on  the  bosom  hung 

Of  his  scorned  Master,  ever  drinking  in 

The  holy  spirit,  that,  like  an  incense  pure 

On  the  heart's  altar  burned,  of  God's  anointed  ; 


11 

And  when  Gennessaret,  from  his  green  repose 

Lashed  into  fury  by  tumultuous  winds, 

Growled  through  his  granite  caves,  and  opened  wide 

His  black  and  hungry  jaws,  to  swallow  up 

The  reeling  barks,  where  rode  the  little  band 

Of  faithful  hearts, — the  meek  disciple  saw 

The  howling  storm-god  from  his  dark  career 

Roll  back  the  terrors  of  his  ebon  car, 

And  angry  ocean  droop  his  grisly  mane, 

Unlock  the  foldings  of  his  strong  embrace 

From  the  wave  girdled  bark,  and  shrink  away 

Trembling  with  terror  to  his  rock-bound  lair, 

At  the  dread  fiat  of  the  great  Messiah. 

And  O  !  with  Him  in  his  great  agony, 

He  trod  Gethsemane's  garden  of  despair, 

When  to  His  God,  and  to  their  God,  He  poured 

His  anguished  soul  in  bitter  words  of  prayer, 

Till  the  tired  watchers  slept,  and  drops  of  blood 

Wrung  from  His  tortured  heart,  and  driven  forth 

In  the  strong  conflict,  gathered  on  His  brow. 

Woke  from  the  heaviness  of  his  sleep,  he  saw 

The  insidious  Judas  give  the  treacherous  kiss 

While  all  the  fiend  was  lurking  in  his  glance. 

Then  came  the  insults,  and  the  scoffs  and  jeers 

Of  the  deriding  multitude,  who  hailed 

With  loud  hosannahs  His  triumphal  march 

To  the  celestial  city,  strewing  wide 

His  pathway  with  their  garments,  and  with  palms 

Shouting,  till  all  the  slumbering  air  was  stirred 

With  the  untaught  and  rapturous  acclaim 

Of  praise  and  power  to  David's  royal  Son; 

Ah !  soon  the  change  !     Grey  rock  and  mountain  cliff 

The  home  of  echo,  by  her  thousand  tongues 

Made  tremulous  with  the  shout,  had  scarcely  hushed 

The  deep  vibrations  of  their  answering  tones, 

Ere  wild  and  startling  through  their  hundred  caves 


13 

And  earthquake  fissures,  rang  the  dreadful  shout 

Of  "  Crucify"  from  that  mad  multitude, 

And  king  and  priest  and  sloled  centurion, 

Mocked  the  Redeemer.    Him  the  Apostle  saw, 

Since  on  His  bosom  he  had  fondly  hung. 

Crowned  with  the  thorns  and  led  to  sacrifice, 

Still  to  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem 

Breathing  prophetic  warning ;  and  he  heard 

The  loud  voice  of  His  agony,  when  the  sun 

Reeled  like  a  drunkard  in  his  darkened  course, 

And  the  earth  groan'd.     Ah  !  then  what  wasting  thought 

Stirred  in  that  breast,  as,  cold  and  lifeless,  sank 

The  form  of  his  lone  Master  on  it.     Then 

What  memories  darted  through  his  stricken  soul, 

To  wake  its  broken,  unmelodious  chords 

To  the  deep  notes  of  anguish.     Yet  his  grief 

Was  a  most  voiceless  sorrow.     Tears  of  wo, 

The  silent  witnesses  of  a  stricken  heart. 

Came  gently  down,  and  with  the  tears  of  those 

Who  with  him  bended  o'er  the  frigid  corse, 

Fell  to  the  sod.     Earth  cherished  in  her  shrine 

The  holy  drops,  that,  falling  on  her  breast 

Told  of  their  sorrows  and  their  deathless  love, 

While  Hope  sunk,  fainting,  yet  full  soon  to  rise 

With  new  born  vigor,  in  each  troubled  heart. 

They  wrapped  the  foldings  of  the  spotless  shroud 
Around  the  Saviour's  pallid  form,  and  took 
From  Calvary's  brow,  and  towards  the  silent  tomb, 
Their  funeral  march,  with  mournful  step  and  slow. 

Now  from  her  ebon  wing  descending  Night 
Shook  the  bright  dew-drops  to  the  weeping  earth, 
Heaven's  glittering  gems  to  deck  the  solemn  bier. 
The  dark  clouds  vanished,  melting  into  air 
Before  the  glances  of  an  angel  host, 


13 

God's  flaming  ministers :  for  lo  !  that  hour 
Heaven's  sapphire  walls  were  rolled  in  glory  back, 
And  pouring  numberless,  and  far  along, 
Bright  ranks  on  ranks  of  shining  seraphim, 
And  fair-haired  cherubs,  and  the  golden  lyred 
Archangels,  stretched  in  glorious  array ; 
As  when  Aurora  from  her  northern  caves 
Leads  her  red  armies  o'er  the  cold  blue  sky, 
Far,  far  away  above  the  retreating  clouds. 
The  glowing  phalanx  rolled  in  splendor  on. 
Eternal  God,  low  bending  from  His  throne, 
From  the  right  hand  of  His  Omnipotence, 
To  the  bright  Angel  of  Salvation,  gave 
The  Banner  of  the  Cross.     Unrolled,  it  blazed 
Broad  over  heaven,  with  all  its  burnished  folds; 
High  on  the  air  upborne  in  majesty, 
That  farthest  lands,  and  the  remotest  sons 
Of  earth,  might  see  its  brightness  and  be  blessed. 
Peerless  it  streamed  o'er  widowed  Palestine. 
Her  mountain  peaks,  and  silent  vallies,  saw 
The  advancing  ensign,  as  it  were  the  shroud 
Of  her  departing  glory  hung  from  heaven. 
The  holy  shepherds  who  had  seen  the  star 
Of  Bethlehem  blazing  on  the  brow  of  even, 
Watching  by  night  their  folded  flocks,  beheld 
The  streaming  glory,  and  they  knew  the  pledge 
Of  earth's  redemption.     There  began  the  song 
Of  praise  and  triumph  to  the  spotless  Lamb, 
Whose  echo  thrills  through  vast  Eternity ! 
Phenician  Sidon  saw  the  fiery  front 
Of  heaven  illumined  by  the  gorgeous  folds 
Of  the  unrolling  banner  ;  and  old  Tyre 
From  the  dark  ruins  of  her  mouldering  walls, 
Cast  one  wild  glance  above  her;  she  knew  not 
The  victor  ensign  of  the  slaughtered  God. — 
In  the  bright  radiance  of  the  glowing  beams 


14 

Glittered  the  dew-drops  on  grey  Hermon's  brow ; — 

The  Great  Sea  kindled,  and  its  crested  waves 

Caught  the  full  glare,  and  mirrored  in  its  deep 

The  rolling  phalanx,  that  far  down  below 

Seemed  in  bright  ranks,  another  host,  to  sweep 

Along  a  nether  sky ;  and  the  dark  flood 

Whose  turbid  waters  on  Gomorrah  sleep, 

And  buried  Sodom  with  its  blackened  walls, 

Was  laid  in  light ;  and  through  its  waves  below 

Glided  the  struggling  rays  amid  the  domes 

And  fallen  palaces  and  temples,  where 

The  great  sea-monsters  whelped  and  hid  their  young; 

And  terrible  of  old,  in  thunder  poured, 

The  red  fire  fell,  and  hissing  lightnings  ran, — 

Iduraea's  lions  left  their  prey  untorn. 

And  couching,  fled  the  sudden  burst  of  day  : 

Her  hideous  dragons  bowed  their  horrid  crests 

And  skrunk  into  their  caves.     The  satyr  cried 

To  his  lone  fellow,  and  the  boding  owl 

Spoke  from  the  palace  wall,  and  closer  coiled 

The  yellow  scorpion  on  the  shattered  hearth  ; — 

Raven  to  raven  lifted  up  her  voice ; — 

And  the  shrill  bittern  wheeled  her  sudden  flight 

From  the  fallen  temple,  in  whose  desolate  halls 

The  fierce  wild  beasts  have  made  their  horrid  home. 

Since  the  right  hand  of  God,  in  terror  reared, 

Bathed  his  red  sword  in  heaven,  and  turned  its  blade 

To  smite  the  nations.     Broad  and  fiery  red 

The  Arabian  deserts,  from  their  trackless  wastes 

Gave  back  the  glow,  as  when,  of  old,  along 

Their  burning  sands,  the  blazing  column  moved 

Before  the  march  of  Freedom  and  of  God. — 

Egypt  beheld,  but  heeded  not,  the  sign ; — 

The  desert  pyramids,  revealed  in  light. 

Stood  up,  like  giant  sentinels,  to  guard 

The  eternal  empire,  and  untrembling  throne. 


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0( Desolation  in  his  dreary  reign. 

The  sage  Chaldean,  gazing  into  heaven 

To  read  the  mysteries  that  are  written  there 

On  the  great  scroll  of  infinite  nature,  saw, 

And  wondered  at  the  vision ;  but  his  soul 

Was  veiled  in  darkness,  and  it  caught  no  joy. 

Seas  rolled  in  splendor,  and  amid  their  waves 

The  islands  brightened  in  the  heavenly  beam  ; 

Cyprus  and  Crete,  and  far  Melita,  Rhodes, 

Patmos  and  Samos,  with  the  hundred  gems 

On  the  fair  bosom  of  the  Egean  sea, — 

Were  kindled  in  their  deep,  blue  ocean-home, 

That  seemed  a  heaven  with  all  its  blazing  stars  ; 

The  Thracian  woods  and  old  Byzantium's  towers, 

Beotia's  realm,  and  rich  Achaia's  fields. 

Slumbered   in  beauty,  as  the  refulgent  host 

Flung  out  the  golden  Banner  of  the  Cross 

On  the  bland  air,  that,  redolent  with  the  scent 

Of  blooming  mountains,  and  the  rosy  vales. 

Was  stirred  with  angel  wings. — The  Ionian  wave 

Danced  in  new  glory  ;  and  imperial  Rome 

On  her  seven  hills  received  the  glowing  beams. 

And  tower  and  temple,  and  the  solemn  arch 

Of  her  eternal  capitol,  grew  bright. 

Broad  continents,  and  the  remotest  isles  that  breast 

The  wrath  of  ocean,  saw  that  Banner  wave; 

And   conscious  Nature,  from  her  thousand  hills, 

Vallies,  and  rocks  and  brightening  waters. 

Owned  the  presence  of  her  God ;  while  doubt  and  fear 

And  haughty  pride,  shut  out  from  human  eye, 

Save  of  the  tried  alone,  the  glorious  sign 

Of  man's  redemption,  full,  and  perfect  wrought. 

The  mourning  band,  saw  in  their  solemn  march, 

The  ensign  wave  above  the  angelic  host ; 

And  as  they  gazed  upon  that  bright  array. 

Fair,  and  the  foremost  of  their  glowing  ranks, 


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Save  the  majestic  Angel  of  the  Cross, 

Hope  waved  her  mantle  o'er  them.     Full  above, — 

Throned  on  a  golden  cloud  sat  Victory, 

While  white-robed  Mercy  from  her  azure  eyes, 

Beamed  visible  gladness  on  the  paths  of  men, 

Then  as  they  laid  their  Jesus  in  the  tomb, 

Still  gazing  upward  to  the  glorious  sky, 

Their  tear-drops  vanished,  and  their  sorrow  fled  : 

They  saw  the  token,  on  the  wall  of  heaven, 

Of  man's  redemption,  and  they  blessed  the  sign  ; 

They  knew  that  brighter  and  more  glorious  yet 

That  gorgeous  Banner  should  unroll  its  folds, 

Over  earth's  moral  darkness,  and  around 

Its  outflung  splendor,  through  the  years  of  time. 

Earth's  noblest  sons  should  gather,  and  the  pure, 

The  meek,  the  holy  and  the  righteous  come, 

Till  man's  last  enemy  had  bit  the  dust. 

And  all  the  ransomed  millions  of  the  world 

Bowed  to  the  sceptre  of  Immanuel, 

When  angel  hands  should  bear  that  ensign  up 

Before  the  Redeemed  upon  their  heavenward  march, 

And  blazing  broad  above  them,  plant  it  on 

The  uplifted  battlements  of  Eternity. 


